So my uncle is gone. Funeral is tomorrow.

I miss my great grandma. I miss her biscuits sopped in molasses and a cold glass of buttermilk.

I miss my grandpa. And the dollar he’d pull from now where so I could buy cotton candy ice cream.

It’s funny, sometimes i feel so ancient done to my the marrow in my bones.seems like going on living is like beating a dead horse sometimes. I’d like to just sleep. Sleep perchance to dream. Shed this mortal coil. Aye, there’s the rub.

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